


Born to Rule the Storm

by slightlytookish



Category: Merlin (BBC)
Genre: Future Fic, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-24
Updated: 2009-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-05 04:05:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/37628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightlytookish/pseuds/slightlytookish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You'll teach me?" Morgana looks surprised, as if she hadn't expected him to agree so quickly.<br/>"Yes," Merlin says, and he wonders fleetingly if he's making the biggest mistake of his life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Born to Rule the Storm

**Author's Note:**

> This immediately follows the events in "Only the Beginning" (also posted at this site) but I think it can be read as a standalone. (Canon) character death (sort of), spoilers for the entire first series/general Arthurian legend, future-fic, potential multi-shippy vibe that can also be seen as a manifestation of really strong friendships on all sides (really, it's up to you!). The title comes from Felicia Hemans' poem "Casabianca." Thank you to thedoingofit for the beta.

"Merlin." A hushed voice, close to his ear. "Merlin."

Merlin huffs a sigh and tugs the blanket over his head, still half-asleep. He's grown used to ignoring the dragon, pretending that he doesn't hear his angry voice calling for him night after night, roaring loud enough to rattle the stones in the walls. When he remembers how the dragon nearly convinced him to let the king die and allow a helpless child to face execution, Merlin is horrified and ashamed of himself. He knows he was far too trusting, but he can't help feeling betrayed by someone he had considered a friend.

"Merlin," the voice hisses again, impatiently this time, and his blanket is suddenly snatched away. Merlin shivers in the chilly early morning air and he rolls over, bleary-eyed. When he sees Morgana perched on the edge of his bed he yelps, instantly awake, and yanks the blanket up to his chin in a belated attempt to preserve his modesty.

But Morgana pays no attention to his threadbare nightshirt. "Merlin," she says again, looking quite stern. It's obvious that she hasn't slept at all that night; the thin light coming in through the window casts Morgana's face into sharp relief, accentuating the deep shadows under her eyes. "_I know_."

Her dreams and his magic – Merlin can see it in her face that Morgana knows everything now, and for a moment he panics. Morgana watches him steadily, waiting for his reaction and revealing nothing of her own.

Merlin allows himself to relax, just a little. If Morgana was going to tell the king, she would have done so already. She wouldn't be sitting here still, looking so out of place in his disaster of a room. "I'm surprised it took you so long," he says, striving to keep his voice light. "Being a seer."

It's a rather impertinent response, especially considering that Morgana is holding his life in her hands, and although she glares at him Merlin is pleased to see a hint of amusement in her eyes. "You shouldn't jest," she replies, frowning. "I'm very angry with you." She stands then, and goes to the door. "Come on," she says, when Merlin makes no attempt to move. "We need to talk."

Merlin needs a few moments to dress, but they're walking along the battlements soon enough, just as the first rays of sunlight reach Camelot. A strong gust of wind sweeps past them, making the flags flap noisily overhead and causing Morgana's unbound hair to fly into her face.

"You never told me," she says accusingly. "All this time you knew about my dreams and you let me believe that they meant nothing." Her demeanour is deceptively calm; Merlin can sense her anger building now that they're outdoors and away from prying ears. He doesn't want to be around when she starts shouting. "How could you keep this from me, Merlin?"

"I'm sorry," he says. "It just seemed safer this way. Uther–" Morgana's eyes narrow and Merlin hesitates, unwilling to say more. Neither one can help glancing at the courtyard below where the chopping block always stands ready.

"Yes, Uther," Morgana says, her voice bitter. "Everything always comes back to him, doesn't it?"

Merlin remains silent.

"Does Arthur know?" Morgana asks eventually.

"No," Merlin says. "I wouldn't ask him to choose between me and his father. Between me and the kingdom." He glances at Morgana. Her jaw is still clenched and her expression is angry and brittle, but there's a softness in her eyes and a glimmer of understanding there that grows as she listens to Merlin's words. "Does Gwen know?"

"Well, I can hardly keep the nightmares from her," Morgana replies, giving him a wry half-smile. "She thinks they're ordinary dreams. Gwen distrusts magic more than ever since Tom's death. You see, I wouldn't have her choose, either." She studies Merlin for a long moment. "But we never had a choice, did we? Magic chose us."

Merlin nods. "I've always been this way. It's not something I studied. I could do magic before I could talk." He smiles suddenly. "You said something like that when we were hiding the Druid boy. Do you remember?"

"I was so frightened then," Morgana says. "I'm tired of being afraid. Will you teach me?"

"What?" Merlin asks, stunned.

"My dreams are so vivid but they make so little sense to me. Sometimes I think I'm going mad," Morgana explains. "Do you know how many times I've watched Arthur die in my dreams? Every time it happens I feel so terrified and helpless. I only know that someone I love is in danger, and I want to help. Like you've been helping. How many times have you used magic to save Arthur?"

"What makes you think I've been helping Arthur?" Merlin says.

"Anyone with eyes can see how devoted you are to him," Morgana replies. "So many strange things have happened since you arrived in Camelot. You helped defeat the griffin and the questing beast, didn't you? And I'm sure you've defeated others for Arthur's sake. If you teach me magic, I could help you."

"But – Uther – the law," Merlin stammers. "It's bad enough that you can see the future, but actually doing magic? It's too dangerous."

Morgana shakes her head. "It's too dangerous _not_ to know," she says. "I don't even know what I'm capable of doing and I think – I think that if I'm not careful–" She hesitates for a moment. "I fear I'll do something terrible," she says at last, and Merlin knows that Morgana is thinking about the time she plotted against Uther.

"All right," he says abruptly, before he can change his mind.

"You'll do it?" Morgana looks surprised, as if she hadn't expected him to agree so quickly. "You'll teach me?"

"Yes," Merlin says, and he wonders fleetingly if he's making the biggest mistake of his life. But then he tells himself that this is Morgana, and she wants to keep Arthur safe as much he does. He trusts her. And perhaps, he reasons, it is his destiny to teach Morgana how to use her gifts to help Camelot. "Yes, I will."

Morgana smiles and takes his hand, squeezing his fingers in gratitude. "When do we begin?"

Deep below the castle, the dragon flicks his tail contentedly, and waits.

* * *

Morgana has none of Merlin's instinctive ability for magic; there is no chance of her accidentally stopping a falling goblet in midair during one of Uther's feasts. Even the simplest magic, the things Merlin had accomplished when he was still in his cradle, requires time and study for Morgana. It's a long and difficult process, but Morgana is eager to learn and Merlin is a patient teacher.

They snatch time for their lessons whenever they can, looking forward to those long afternoons when Arthur is too busy training his knights and Gwen is too preoccupied with cleaning and mending for anyone to miss them. Merlin loves this, loves teaching Morgana what he knows and having someone else to confide in, knowing that someone else understands what it's like to be this way.

"This would have been helpful in Ealdor," Morgana says on one such afternoon, as Merlin tries to teach her how to light a fire with magic. "That's how you got that fire to light, wasn't it? Nothing I tried worked."

"You caught me," Merlin says, grinning. "Now try the spell again. Here, extend your hand. Concentrate."

Morgana narrows her eyes and extends her hand towards the hearth. "_Baerne_."

There's a small spark, but it quickly dies away. "I'm sorry," Morgana says, because they've been working at it for hours already and it's frustrating for both of them, though neither will show it.

"No, it's fine, really," Merlin assures her. "You're getting there. Just try it once more."

Morgana nods and takes a deep breath, readying herself. "_Baerne_," she says again, this time with more conviction, and a fire blazes in the hearth, bright and sudden enough to shock them both into laughter.

* * *

"Do you ever look into the future?" Merlin asks, feeling curious one day. "On purpose, I mean."

Morgana is studying his book of spells rather intently but she glances up then, smiling in amusement. "But what would be the fun in that?"

"Do you ever think," Merlin says, grinning in return, "'I wonder if it'll rain tomorrow,' and then suddenly have a vision of what the weather will be like the next day?"

"It doesn't work that way," Morgana replies. "I have no control over what I see and when I see it. It just… happens." She gives Merlin a sidelong look. "Besides, with you around I never know when the weather will change."

"What do you mean?"

"You could change the weather, couldn't you?" Morgana says. When Merlin doesn't deny it, she persists, grinning. "Go on. Make it rain."

Merlin reaches his hand towards the open window. Almost immediately heavy clouds rush in and the sky grows dark as it begins to rain.

"Very impressive," Morgana says, raising an eyebrow as thunder rumbles in the distance. Then she turns her attention back to the book, still smiling, and with a grin Merlin allows the rain to slow to a drizzle, and soon the sun is shining brightly once more.

* * *

One afternoon, as Merlin is teaching Morgana how to enchant a small stone sculpture of a bird to come to life (he's learned his lesson, and will never again try this spell on an animal with lots of sharp teeth and a very loud bark) Morgana suddenly shivers, despite the warm summer breeze coming in through the window. She sits up a little straighter and glances around the room as if she were looking for something she had misplaced.

"What is it?" Merlin says, concerned. "Morgana? What's wrong?"

Morgana shakes her head, her forehead wrinkling in thought. "It's just a feeling I had," she says. "It's difficult to explain." She looks at Merlin, the confusion evident in her eyes. "I felt a change coming."

"What kind of change?" Merlin asks warily.

"I don't know," Morgana says. She tries to smile lightly, but still looks troubled. "A change in the weather?"

Later, Merlin contemplates paying the dragon a visit for the first time in a long while. The dragon has been quiet for so long, has not once called for Merlin since he began teaching Morgana, and Merlin would be suspicious of this if he were not getting along just fine without him. But he thinks of the dragon that evening, wondering if he can shed some light on whatever it is that Morgana has seen, however cryptic the dragon's answers would be. But it's just a fleeting thought, gone by the next morning, and all remains peaceful for so long in Camelot that Merlin forgets Morgana's warning.

He doesn't think of the dragon again.

* * *

When the change finally comes, it happens during a banquet before the entire court. A sorcerer, posing as a young nobleman from one of the outlying regions, makes an attempt on Arthur's life. Merlin doesn't think, he just reacts, rushing to Arthur's side and hardly noticing that Morgana is doing the same. There is a loud explosion, part of the ceiling comes crashing down, and when the dust settles the sorcerer is lying dead amid the rubble and Uther is glaring at them, at Merlin and Arthur and Morgana standing together behind the king's table.

"I know magic when I see it," Uther says. His eyes are glinting dangerously and he is looking right at Merlin. Never would he suspect his son or his ward to betray him with magic.

Merlin trembles a little under the king's angry gaze, and he can't look at Arthur beside him or at Gaius and Gwen watching in horror from where they stand nearby. He draws himself up to speak but Morgana cuts in first.

"It was me," she says quietly.

"You?" Arthur exclaims, the disbelief apparent on his face. He gestures at the ruined ceiling and the dead sorcerer. "You did all this?"

"_No_," Merlin says, low and urgent. Morgana glances up at him and shakes her head imperceptibly; she is going through with this.

"Tread carefully, child," Uther warns, waiting for her answer.

"It was me," Morgana says, loud enough for the entire court to hear. There is a hushed murmur of surprise, and the guests crane their necks to watch. "I did it. I killed the sorcerer." And then she extends her hand towards the table and causes a goblet to crash to the floor at the king's feet.

"I had to protect Arthur," she adds, and Merlin feels sick, thinking that the simple magic he taught Morgana is now going to destroy her.

Uther looks at the goblet lying on its side by his feet, and when he glances up his face is wearing an expression of pure fury. "Guards," he says. "Seize the witch."

Nearby Gwen is already crying, and Arthur is trying to trying to convince his father to show Morgana mercy, but his pleas fall on deaf ears. Neither of them watch as the guards lead Morgana away but Merlin does, feeling guilty and powerless and resolving to whatever it takes to help.

* * *

"I can't let you do this for me," Merlin says. Behind the bars Morgana stands proud, her chin raised, defiant to the last. There is to be a trial in the morning, but they both know that it is a formality only, and the king's decision is the only one that truly matters. When Merlin slipped out of the court, Uther was still trying to decide whether execution or lifelong exile in the north is a more fitting punishment for a sorceress of the royal household.

"I have to," she replies.

"But there's still time," Merlin says, desperate. "We could go to the king and–"

"And what?" Morgana says sharply. "And have you take my place?" She shuffles closer to Merlin, as close as the chains on her wrists and ankles will allow. "Arthur needs you. Camelot needs you. I've seen it in my dreams, Merlin. You're no good to anyone dead."

"Neither are you," Merlin protests. "We need you here. What about Gwen? She hasn't stopped crying."

Morgana's expression changes, and for the first time since everything happened she looks sad. "I'm sorry only for that," she says quietly. "Gwen should never be unhappy. You'll look after her, won't you, when I'm–"

"Don't say that," Merlin says fiercely. "That isn't your destiny."

Morgana smiles bitterly. "I'd rather die than spend my life in a cell," she says. "I'm sure Uther agrees."

"I won't let that happen," Merlin says.

"I don't know if you can stop it," Morgana says quietly, turning aside.

"I will fix this," Merlin insists, turning to go. "I promise."

He hurries away, not stopping even when he thinks he hears a muffled sob behind him. He has work to do.

* * *

Just before midnight, Merlin creeps back into the dungeons. It takes him just a moment to deal with the guards – they won't wake for some time. And then it is only a matter of unlocking the door to Morgana's cell and freeing her from the chains.

"Come on," Merlin says, handing her a torch. "This way."

He leads her through the burial vaults to the tunnel; when they reach the end of the tunnel they will be outside of the city's walls. It is the same path that Arthur took when he helped the Druid boy escape.

At the end of the tunnel they find that the grate has already been removed, and Arthur is waiting for them.

For a moment Morgana hesitates, as if she has half a mind to turn back into the tunnel. An expression of hurt quickly passes over Arthur's face, but he takes Morgana's hand firmly in his own and leads her and Merlin into the woods, where two horses are waiting under the cover of the trees.

"I had Guinevere pack your things," he says when Morgana looks at him questioningly. "She wanted to be here, but I thought it was too dangerous to involve anyone else."

Morgana smiles. "You'll look after her, Arthur," she says. It's not a question.

Arthur nods. "I'll do all that I can," he promises. "I – thank you. For defeating the sorcerer." He looks as though he would like to say more but cannot, and clears his throat uncomfortably. "Merlin will go with you now, and see that you're settled somewhere safely. I'll keep the guards distracted until morning." Arthur looks away unhappily. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more to help you."

"You've done enough," Morgana says, reaching up to kiss his cheek. "Just be careful."

"You too," Arthur says. "Both of you." He glances at Merlin, holds his gaze. They both know that the consequences will be severe if they are caught by Uther's guards.

Merlin and Morgana mount their horses and disappear through the trees. In the forest, and out of the shadow of the castle, they both breathe easier.

It was Arthur who suggested that Merlin take Morgana to the Druids, hoping that they would be willing to protect her as a personal favour to him for having safely returned the boy Mordred to them. It doesn't take Merlin and Morgana long to find the Druids – but then, it almost seems that the Druids have been awaiting their arrival. Mordred is not among them, but they welcome Morgana and bid her to stay with them, promising to hide and protect her. In the forest, the Druids are beyond Uther's reach, and she will be safe with them.

"Thank you," Morgana says to Merlin, pulling him close for a hug just before he leaves. "For everything."

"Will we ever see you again?" Merlin asks, awkwardly patting her shoulder.

Morgana draws away, and when she looks up at Merlin her smile is sad. "Yes," she says. "_You_ will."

Before he can question her, Morgana steps away and stands with the Druids and Merlin knows it is time to go. He looks back once at the edge of the clearing, but the woods are empty, and he is alone.

* * *

Years pass, and Morgana never returns to Camelot, though Uther is long dead and one of Arthur's first acts as king was to restore magic to the realm. He and Gwen have given up any hope of her coming home.

Instead they rely on Merlin, who every so often sees a glimpse of Morgana in his mind's eye, as clearly as if she were standing before him. It never happens often enough for him to expect it, and the images are always too fleeting for Merlin to know where she is or what she is doing, but he can see enough to know that Morgana is safe and well. This he tells to Arthur and Gwen, and Merlin thinks it helps to ease the pain of separation, even after so many years have passed.

"But," Gwen always asks, looking sad and lonely and hopeful and glad, all at once, "do you think she's happy?"

"Yes," Merlin always replies, without hesitation, though he does wonder.

He wonders if Morgana's gifts have changed over the years, and how powerful she is now. He wonders if these brief glimpses are messages that Morgana sends intentionally, and he wonders if she can see all of them as well. He wonders if she can see Camelot and if she can see how it has changed for the better under Arthur's rule, but Merlin quickly pushes those thoughts aside, and he doesn't discuss them with Arthur and Gwen. Because if Morgana can see Camelot from afar, and if she can see its future, then perhaps there is a reason why she chooses not to return – and whatever that reason is, Merlin couldn't bear knowing it.

* * *

After Camlann, Merlin takes Arthur to the lake where Avalon had appeared to him so many years before. The water is calm, and there is a boat dragged halfway onto the shore. Morgana is waiting for them, as Merlin knew she would be.

"He's breathing, but only just," Merlin says. He watches as Morgana leans over Arthur, her long plaited hair spilling over her shoulder as she touches Arthur's brow and listens to his slow rattling breaths. She looks older, but of course, so does Merlin, and yet it seems as if no time has passed at all since they last saw each other.

"He will be healed," she says.

"I failed him," Merlin says, his voice breaking. "It was Mordred. I've always known this would happen. The dragon–"

"No," Morgana says, straightening up. "You never failed Arthur. Mordred was lost to us long ago. It was always meant to end this way, Merlin." She quirks an eyebrow. "This is destiny."

"Destiny," Merlin echoes. They share a rueful smile and for a moment Merlin imagines that they're young again and back in Camelot before everything went so terribly and irreparably wrong.

He suspects that Morgana must be thinking the same because she reaches out suddenly to touch his face. "I wish you could come with us," she says, inclining her head towards the water. "But it cannot be."

"I know," Merlin says. _It was always meant to end this way_. "I'll wait. For however long it takes, I'll wait for him."

Morgana nods; of course she knows all this already. "It's my turn to look after him now," she says, glancing at Arthur lying so pale and still. She stands taller then, as if steeling herself for what comes next.

Together they place Arthur in the boat. His eyes remain closed and he does not wake. Then Morgana stands aside and looks out across the water, waiting, giving Merlin his moment to say goodbye.

Merlin crouches beside Arthur, looking once more at his much-loved face, and kisses him goodbye. Then he helps Morgana into the boat and gives it a push. It glides across the water and for the first time in many years Merlin sees Avalon, its colours shining brightly through the gloom for one glimmering moment, and Morgana raises a hand in farewell an instant before the gates close again and the lake is just a lake once more.

Merlin looks out across the empty water, and waits.


End file.
